Bound
by HardyGurl94
Summary: The Winchester boys decide to spend a few days at Bobby's to celebrate Christmas. When Sam goes missing, its up to the remaining Winchesters and Bobby to save him. Will they be too late? Is Sam already bound? Wee!chesters and some limp!Sam.Merry Christmas
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys!

This is my first attempt at a Supernatural multi chapter, as all have been one shots so far as I've been too lazy to do anything else =P

Anyway, please R&R!! It'd make my day. No flames please!

I know these chapters are a little short, but I've been trying to write this as quick as possible as I was hoping to have this posted by Christmas, but that obviously isnt gonna happen, so it'll definitley (hopefully) be posted by New Year's.

Wishing a safe and Merry Christmas to all!

* * *

Fourteen-year-old Dean Winchester awoke to the sound of hushed voices drifting down the hallway.

They – John Winchester, Dean, and ten-year-old Sammy, were spending a couple of days at Bobby Singer's Salvage Yard to celebrate the Christmas holiday.

'John, you know as well as I do that you can't run from this!' Bobby's raised whisper came from the kitchen.

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, and taking a quick glance at the other sleeping Winchester child, padded out to the hallway, concealing himself behind the doorframe to the kitchen.

'We gotta fight, John, not flee. This demon's jeopardizing your whole family – hell, look what happened to Mary—'

There was a muffled thump, and Dean imagined his Dad grabbing Bobby by his collar and slamming him up against the wall. 'Don't you bring Mary into this, Singer,' he muttered, his voice low and thick with emotion. 'Don't you think I know this?'

There was a small scraping sound as John sat heavily in the chair. 'Bobby, this demon has ruined my family. Hell, they're your family too, in a way! How do you think I feel now that I know that the demon has plans for Sammy? He's only ten, Bobby. He should be playing soccer, or baseball. He should be at friend's houses, trading baseball cards or something! But instead, I have to prepare him for a bloody supernatural war.'

Dean heard Bobby sigh. 'I know John. And it aint fair on you, nor Dean. Especially not Dean. That kid hasn't had a normal life since he was four years old. John, he's been raising Sammy himself. I think we all need to take a break for a few months and lay low for a bit, huh?'

'Damnit!' John slammed his fist on the table.

'Shh, you'll wake the boys!' Bobby hissed.

Too late, Dean thought wryly.

'Bobby, how do expect me to lay low when there's a fucking _apocalypse _coming?! You know as well as I do that the demon has plans for Sam!' His voice grew softer. 'Bobby, I just don't know what to do…'

Dean turned away from the door, his mind whirling. Plans for Sam? What kind of plans? And what was it that could cause his invincible Dad to break down like that?

Dean didn't fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, and it was only because his body finally gave in to the protests of exhaustion.

* * *

Yellow eyes watched as the two men argued quietly in the kitchen. The younger one, John, had found out about his plans too early. But not all was lost, he reminded himself. The youngest one, Sam, was still to be used as leverage. He frowned as he thought about having to use the backup plan. It was never supposed to be like this…

Making his way quietly around the side of Singer's four-bedroom clapboard house as not to alert the dogs, he found himself staring into the Winchester boys' bedroom. The youngest one was asleep close to the window, with the window open a fraction to allow the cool night air into the room. Reaching out a hand, he reached out to open the window but was repelled suddenly as his hand reached the wooden frame.

'Salt,' he whispered maliciously. Damnit! The Winchester boy slept on. He smiled as he recalled that night, nine and a half years ago, as he carefully positioned his bleeding hand over the infant's mouth, watching as the blood tricked down and landed on the baby's lips. Shaking his head, he brought himself back into the present. He startled as the older boy tiptoed into the room. He flattened himself against the wall, away from the window, until he was sure the boy had gone back to bed. Looking in, he watched the slow, even rise and fall of the blankets in the dark.

Yes, he thought to himself, this plan wouldn't fail him…

* * *

So....whadda ya think? Love it? Hate it? Review!!! Pwease?

I'll try have another chapter up by tonight, as I have time to kill....our Christmas Eve church service doesnt start till 11pm. (I live in NZ, by the way)

Please R&R!!

Merry Christmas.

P.S. Was anyone else REALLY confused when first posting stories at how to edit them? like add notes etc? or was it just me...? I spent around two hours trying to figure it out.....and finnaly found it with two clicks of my mouse *_*


	2. Chapter 2

Ha! Told ya! Managed to upload chapter number 2!  
Reviews are like Christmas presents.....  
Oh, some things I forgot to include in chapter one:

**1.** Disclaimer: I do not own em. *sniff*  
**2.** All spelling and grammatical errors are mine and mine alone. I have no beta.  
**3.** If my writing seems quite juvenile....explanation: I am only fourteen. Go me!

Thanks for reading!

Merry Christmas!

P.S. Feel free to read my other stories =D

* * *

John bade his old friend goodnight, and disappeared down the hall and into the bedroom off to left of his boys'. He changed into loose pants and an old tee shirt, before climbing into bed. The night was cold, and the window by his bed showed the frost beginning to form on the bonnets and windows of the old cars that littered Bobby's salvage yard.

His thoughts wandered to his boys. Dean was turning fifteen in a few months, and Sammy eleven a few months after that. When they were all grown up, would they leave him? Would they adapt to normal life, meet some girls and have two point five kids? Or would they stay with him, avenging their mother's death like he had spent the last nine or so years? He gnawed on his lip, and eventually fell into a troubled sleep.

Bobby sat on the couch with a beer bottle in hand, watching as the lights on the Christmas tree twinkled in the darkness. Christmas was supposed to be a happy time to share with family and friends, but Bobby could tell that for John it was just another painful reminder of what he'd lost. He kept a game face on for the boys, Bobby could tell, but Christmas just wasn't John Winchester's thing. Not without Mary. John had been an old friend of Bobby's; they'd met just before Bobby left the Marines. John had stayed on until he met Mary, but over the years they had lost contact. Seven years later, John rings him up and they chat about old times, and John informed him of marrying Mary and that they had a baby on the way. 'It's a boy,' John had said, pride shining in his voice. 'Mary wants to call him Dean.' Bobby had grinned and congratulated his old friend, and they had parted ways. It was not until around four years after that conversation that Bobby heard from John again, and this time it was not in the form of a telephone conversation.

_Bang, bang. _

_Bobby glanced up from his book towards the front door. Glancing at his clock, he wondered idly who could be banging on his door at this time of night._

_Opening it, he got the shock of his life to see a haggard, desperate-looking John standing on his doorstep with a bleary-eyed little boy clinging to his leg. In his arms was an infant who couldn't be more than nine months old. _

'_John?' he asked, looking the other man up and down. 'What's goin' on?'_

'_There was a fire,' John said thickly. 'Mary, she's—'_

'_Shit, John, I'm so sorry,' Bobby said softly, putting his arm around the younger man's shoulders. Then, bending down, he smiled at the little boy clutching the leg of John's pants. 'And you must be Dean.' The little boy nodded, ducking behind John slightly. _

'_He doesn't speak much, since the fire.' John said warily. 'This is Sammy.' He held out the baby. _

_Bobby took the little bundle in his arms, smiling down at the chubby face. 'He looks like you.'_

_John smiled, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. 'Bobby,' he said quietly. 'I need your help.'_

_Bobby looked up sharply. 'With what?'_

'_I need to find the thing that killed Mary.'_

Bobby almost wished he hadn't helped John that night. If he hadn't, then the boys would probably have a normal life, and John would have never embarked on these crusades.

He stared into the twinkling lights, glad for once he wasn't spending Christmas alone.

* * *

Please R&R!

I will try to update tomorrow morning, depending on if I have time with church services etc....*sigh*


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, didnt think I'd be able to upload 3 chapters in one night!  
Enjoy! And dont forget to review...  
Again, all spelling and grammatical errors are mine.

Merry Christmas!

* * *

Dean woke again close to dawn with the sound of his little brother's coughing.

'Sammy?' he whispered. 'You 'kay?'

'Yeah,' Sam whispered back, slightly hoarse. 'Think 'm gettin' a cold.'

Dean felt a wave of guilt attack him. He shouldn't have left the window open last night.

'Okay Sammy, I'll go get some cough medicine.' Slipping his feet out of his bed, he tiptoed into the bathroom and opened up the medicine cabinet, cringing as the hinges squeaked loudly in protest. He grabbed the cough syrup off the shelf and dug around until he'd found a measuring spoon.

'Here's some cough stuff, Sammy.' He said, shutting the door with his heel.

'Th'ks.' Sam looked up at him with slightly bloodshot eyes. Dean fed him the syrup and put the bottle and spoon on the bedside table.

'Dean?'

'Yeah, Sammy?'

'I had the weirdest dream.' Dean glanced over at his sibling, who wore a thoughtful expression. 'It had this weird dude with yellow eyes in it. He kept telling me he had…plans, or something, for me.' Sam grinned wryly. 'Weird, huh?'

Dean swallowed. That was what his father had been talking to Bobby about. 'Yeah, dude, freaky.'

Sam gave his brother an odd look, but let the issue rest when he gave a massive sneeze. He looked sheepishly at Dean. 'Sorry.'

Dean nodded and glanced at the digital clock next to his bed. 'How 'bout we make Dad and Bobby pancakes, huh? There's no point in going back to sleep now.'

The ten year old nodded eagerly. 'Kay. Can we have chocolate sauce too?'

Dean grinned and ruffled his brother's dark, curly mop. 'Sure thing, kiddo.'

Tip toeing into the kitchen, Dean switched on the light and shut the door softly so as not to wake the sleeping hunters.

* * *

The man with the yellow eyes regretted his decision in coming as a dream to the youngest Winchester. If he told John, then his whole plan could go down the tubes.

The light clicked on in the kitchen, and the man jerked back to attention. Stakeouts were not his thing, he grumbled silently. Chiding himself, he reminded himself that all would work out in the end, as soon as he laid his hands on Sam. The war that Winchester and Singer were talking about was coming far faster than either could have imagined.

He smiled to himself. Mortal people talked of the apocalypse as a far-away happening, but it was far closer than anyone could predict.

He would make certain of it.

* * *

'This looks great,' Bobby grinned up at the two boys. 'A perfect was to start Christmas Eve, huh?'

Sam grinned, and Dean ducked his head shyly. Both boys grabbed a plate with a hot pancake on it, and sat down to eat.

'Whoa, tiger!' Dean laughed, putting a hand on the chocolate sauce bottle to prevent Sammy from flooding the plate. 'Don't you think you've drowned it already?'

Sam giggled. 'S'pose so.'

After breakfast, the three Winchesters and Bobby went about making plans. John knelt down next to his sons. 'Bobby and I are gonna be in the workshop for most of the day, okay? So,' he produced a soccer ball, 'go kick this around 'till you get tired okay? It's a nice day, so you may as well go and enjoy it. Then you can watch a video or something.'

'DVD, Dad,' Dean sighed.

'Yeah, okay. Just make sure they're appropriate, okay Dean?' John quirked an eyebrow at his oldest.

Dean blushed. 'Always do.'

'Now scoot,' John ushered them out the door and into the sunshine.

Dean could here the sounds of the clinking of metal coming from Bobby's workshop, followed by some muffled curses. Dean grinned.

'Okay, Sammy, block this one.' Dean gave the ball a sharp kick with the bar of his foot, sending the ball skimming over the dirt towards his brother. Sam dove for it, barely blocking it from hitting the 'goal'; a rectangle they'd marked with chalk on the brick wall behind them.

'Nice,' Dean grinned at his brother, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 'You keep practicing and I'll go get us some drinks.

Sam's lower lip dropped in a half pout. 'Kay,' he said reluctantly, picking up the ball and taking it to the spot Dean had just vacated. He gave a halfhearted kick and watched as it kicked up little puffs of dust and slapped against the brick.

'Nice one,' Dean called over his shoulder. Sam grunted in reply.

A couple of minutes later, Dean came back out carrying a tray with a pitcher of ice-cold water and two cups, with a plateful of cookies on the side.

'Hey Sammy, I found us some cook—' Dean stopped in mid sentence, his heart leaping to his throat.

The soccer ball lay discarded in the dirt, and Sammy was nowhere to be seen.

'Sammy?' he cried, setting the tray down on the steps. 'Sam?'

'Sammy, c'mon man, this aint funny.' He said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

'Sam?' he searched behind the many cars strewn around Bobby's junkyard, but still no Sam.

'Dad!'

* * *

Gasp! What has happened to poor little Sammy??

Find out in the next chapter.....

R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys!  
Sorry, I meant to update yesterday or the day before, but I got a little sidetracked with another story, and my horse needed a blacksmith urgently....  
So anyway, here's the next chappy...it's a bit short (like all the rest of the chapters =P )**

**As always, please R&R!**

**~Hardy Gurl**

* * *

John Winchester heard his son's panicked cry, and the first thing that leapt to his mind was his youngest. _Sam._

'Shit.' John tossed the wrench he'd been using aside and leapt to his feet. Bobby followed suit.

They met Dean at the door. 'Dad!' he gasped, laying fearful eyes on his father. 'Sammy's gone!'

'What? How?' John grasped his son by the shoulders. 'You were supposed to be watching him!' his fear was displayed as anger. 'What with this de—'

'Never mind,' Bobby cut his friend off, shooting him a warning glance, 'we gotta go find Sam.'

He led the Winchesters out to the yard where the boys had been playing. 'How long's he been gone?'

Dean looked panicked. 'I don't know…I only turned away for a coupla minutes to get water and biscuits, and when I came back, he was gone! So, I don't know, maybe ten minutes at the most?' Bobby could see the guilt flooding Dean's eyes.

'Don't worry, son, we'll get him back.' He patted the boy on the shoulder and gave John a knowing glance.

* * *

Sam grumbled as Dean left to go get water. He wasn't annoyed at Dean so much, it was just that he was just getting the hang of it and it annoyed him to be interrupted.

He gave another kick to the ball, and it bounced back to him, hitting the wall just outside the 'goal'.

He swung his foot back just as a glancing blow to the side of his head made him see stars.

The dazed boy fell to the ground. A rough hand tilted his chin up and Sammy Winchester stared fearfully into the yellow eyes of the man from his dreams.

'I've been waiting, Sammy,' he said before another blow to his head made the world close in around him.

* * *

'John? Might wanna take a look at this.' Bobby knelt in the dirt and motioned for his friend. John jogged over and Bobby pointed to the droplets of blood in the dust.

'Shit.' John swore, swiping a hand over his face. Bobby looked at him. His face was taught and anxious lines were chiseled into his forehead and the corners of his mouth.

Dean peered over his father's shoulder and gasped when he saw the blood.

'Christ, Dad! Is that Sammy's?' the younger Winchester's face and drained of all colour.

'We don't know, son.' John offered lamely.

'Well, who else could it be?' Dean slapped his fist into his palm.

'Look, son,' John's firm, almost harsh, voice cut through his rant like a knife through softened butter. 'We'll figure this out, okay?' his tone softened.

Dean nodded.

The barking of Bobby's dog brought them all to attention.

'Something's there,' Bobby growled, reaching for the knife in his pocket. John motioned for Dean to go inside and crept over to the wall of the house, drawing his gun from the waistband of his jeans. Bobby followed.

John neared the corner of the house and counted down on his fingers. One…two…three…

He burst around the corner, muscles tense, mind sharp. He halted in confusion.

There was nothing there.

* * *

Sam stirred and moaned, the throbbing in his skull pulling him from the depths of unconsciousness.

'De....'

'So, Sammy, you've finally decided to join us,' a voice came from in front of him.

Sam opened his eyes slowly and winced as the bright light made his headache worsen.

'What do you want?' he whispered.

'I think you know what I want, Sammy.' The man with yellow eyes sat on a crate with one leg crossed over the other, tapping the side of his face with his index finger. 'Question is, are you going to tell me?'

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. 'Tell you what?'

The man stood up suddenly. 'Don't play games with me, boy,' he snarled, advancing on the youngest Winchester. 'You know what happens to little boys who lie?' he asked. 'They get punished.'

Suppressed fear coursed through Sam, and he took in a quick, shuddering breath as the man stepped closer to him.

'Wha-?'

The demon backhanded him hard across the face, splitting his lip and bruising his cheekbone. Sam cried out in pain.

'Hopefully that changed your mind,' the man said. 'Because there's plenty more where that came from. And more,' he added, motioning to the wall behind him. Sam followed his gaze to the wall. It was decorated with rows of nails, and hanging off each nail was some sort of hardware tool. There were saws, clamps, and other items that Sam didn't know the names of. But looking at each one sent shivers of fear down Sam's spine.

'So, Samuel, what will it be?' the man smiled devilishly at him. 'What will make you talk?'

* * *

**What did you think? Shall I go on? **

**I will try and update tomorrow!**

**Also, feel free to check out my other stories, especially the one I'm working on at the moment (White Christmas).**

**R&R!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys! Sorry havent updated in a while....I have a valid excuse though. I cut my foot on a reef while swimming and had to get stitches, and its been quite difficult to move around (henceforth not being able to reach computer). Plus, the fan in the computer is broken so I can only go on to write for about 5mins at a time....**

**Anyway, hope ya'll enjoy! And thank you to all those who've reviewed! You're awesome!**

* * *

Dean stared mutely out the Impala's window, watching the dark landscape whiz past him.

His father was glaring out the window with his foot on the gas, his mouth set in a grim line of determination.

Bobby was using John's laptop, skipping through pages of information, his brows knitted together.

Dean stared at his hands. Guilt attacked him from the inside. If only he'd been watching Sammy…

Bobby suddenly leaned forward, peering at the screen. 'Hey, John? I think I found something.'

The laptop almost slid to the floor and Dean winced as the seatbelt strap cut into his chest as John Winchester spun the wheel sharply, pulling the car over to the shoulder.

'Give it to me.'

'Well, you know how you and I were talking bout—' he glanced furtively at Dean, 'Sammy, the other night? Well, seems quite a few of these…children have disappeared this area.' He turned the laptop so John could see it, and so it was conveniently hidden from Dean's view.

John slammed his fist down on the steering wheel. 'Son of a bitch!'

'What is it, Dad?' Dean asked, panic rising in his throat.

'Nothing, Dean.' His father growled, his tone alone telling Dean to drop the matter.

'We have to get there before it binds Sam,' John said to Bobby, keeping his tone low. 'If we're too late, this is all over.'

And with that, John Winchester stepped on the gas.

* * *

Sam trembled under the man's intense gaze. 'I-I don't know what you're talking about,' he whimpered.

The man cocked an eyebrow and turned away from Sam. 'See, here's the thing. I think you _do _know what I am talking about, Sam Winchester, and I also think you are lying to me.' He spun around on his heels, slamming his fist into the side of Sam's face. His head snapped to the side and blood dripped from the corner of this mouth.

'Believe me, Sam. There is more where that came from.' His smirk was replaced by a look of mock innocence. 'Unless, of course, you decide to talk.' He walked over to the wall of 'gadgets', as he called them, and looked over them as if to select one. 'But I doubted you would, seeing as you're a Winchester. So, I came prepared.'

Tears of fear pricked at the corner of Sam's eyes, but he blinked them back. 'H-how do you know my name?' he whispered.

The man with the yellow eyes turned back to him with a scalpel at his side. 'I know a lot of things about you, Sammy. Like, how your Mom died in that fire, for example. And, how lately you've been having those dreams about me.' He smirked as Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. 'Yes, Sammy, I knew about those. In fact, I _sent _them to you. Funny, huh?' he gave a mirthless laugh. 'Sammy, you have powers. Special powers, which will aid you in the coming of something far bigger than you can imagine. But, I am not certain you realize it.' A look of understanding came across the man's face. 'In that case, you'll be a whole lot easier to bind.' He mused.

Sam looked confused. The man bit his fingernail, pretending to look shameful. 'Oh dear, I must have said too much.' He smiled cruelly. 'Oh, well!'

A shiver went up Sam's spine. He was so screwed.

* * *

John slammed his exorcism book into the canvas duffel bag, followed by two sawn-off shotguns and a couple of flasks of holy water. Dean watched his father in the rearview mirror before climbing out of the Impala, slamming the door behind him. He walked over to where John was busy stuffing weapons into the bag and observed him silently for a few seconds.

'Dad?' he asked quietly.

John Winchester looked up into the eyes of his youngest son; eyes that should have belonged to a war veteran, not a fourteen year-old boy. They were the eyes of a man who carried a lot of weight on his shoulders, but John also saw a spark of raw determination.

'Can you at least tell me what we're up against?' Dean asked. 'At least so I can be prepared.'

'Not 'we', Dean, me and Bobby. I'm not getting you involved in this.' He turned sharply and yanked the zipper up on the bag.

'In _what, _Dad?!' Dean cried, throwing his arms out in exasperation.

'Enough, Dean.' His father's tone told him to drop it, yet stubbornness won out.

'No, Dad. Sammy's my brother too, okay? If he's involved in something, I want to know what.' Dean folded his arms across his chest in a look of defiance.

John deflated. 'Dean, I'm doing this to protect you, okay, son?'

Dean looked at his feet. 'I'm sorry, Dad.' He mumbled.

'It's okay, son. Bobby and I wont be long. We'll get Sam, finish off the sonovabitch, and get the hell out of there, okay?' he studied his son's face. 'Just…stay in the car, okay, Dean?'

Dean nodded. 'Yessir.'

John patted his son's shoulder, then turned to the older man. 'Let's go, Bobby.'

* * *

Sam took in a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his right hand. The bloody hammer was still lying beside him, but the man with the yellow eyes was no where to be seen.

Then again, neither was Dean.

Sam's eyes welled with tears. What if his brother never found him?

He took another shuddering breath and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. He'd come to realize that he was tied spread-eagled to a concrete slab_. Like an alter_, Sam had thought fearfully. Twisting his head, he looked up at his wrists which were bound with a flexible leather rope. Sam yanked his good arm down, then immediately regretted it a pain flared though his wrist.

_Crap, I've twisted it_, Sam thought. _But if I could just get my hands free…_

He curled his fingers down and began prying at the knots in the leather.

After half an hour, he gave up. His hands were cramping and he hadn't even undone one knot. There was an empty pit in his stomach, reminding him that the last thing he'd eaten was breakfast at Bobby's. Swallowing down the nausea, he looked for a way to escape. There was none.

* * *

**Dum dum dummmm.......**

**What will happen to Sam? Will he escape? And will Dean listen to his Dad and stay put? Dont think so, it's his brother out there!!!! Well, you'll find out in the next chappie!**

**Please R&R! Any comments or suggestions for the next chapter or future chapters will be appreciated....helps me write something that you'll enjoy. **

Becki.


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